


Tumblr Ficlets

by SOMNlARl



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Era, Established Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Seriously Cullen Fereldan food is... iffy at best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4997167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMNlARl/pseuds/SOMNlARl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of tumblr ficlets too short to deserve their own titles. Probably mostly Cullrian because it's me but potentially other pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cullrian - Modern AU - Asking the other out for the first time

**Author's Note:**

> Each ficlet will be tagged with the pairing and a summary of the prompt so you can skip to what you like.

It shouldn’t be this hard. 

It  _really_  shouldn’t and Cullen knows it as he paces the length of their apartment, his boots wearing a path through the carpet but his  _stupid_  heart won’t stop racing, pounding high and quick in his chest. 

_This is stupid_ , he thinks.  _What are you so fucking worried about, Rutherford? This is Dorian. Your best friend. What’s the worst thing that could happen?_

They’d been friends since middle school, ever since Dorian had walked into homeroom after winter break and Gregory and Otto had decided the new kid dressed in all black and wearing eyeliner was an easy target. Cullen still didn’t know quite what had possessed him but he’d launched, fists clenched at the older boys, just barely managing to dodge the flames the new boy sent flying. 

So perhaps his act of poorly-thought-out chivalry hadn’t been necessary but he and Dorian had been fast friends ever since, the boy even moving into Cullen’s house when his father had kicked him out in the 10th grade. 

Now they were juniors in college with their own apartment and suddenly, everything was hard. The easy silences between them awkward, full of small, furtive looks that Cullen couldn’t explain any more than he could understand the skipping of his heart whenever he looked at his roommate. Until recently. 

Something had changed. Something important and it touched  _everything_. 

He loved Dorian and tonight was the night that he had to tell him. 

_What’s the worst thing that could happen?_

“He could laugh at me!” Cullen answers indignantly to the empty room, its silence mocking him. 

_He wouldn’t, surely? Dorian didn’t have a cruel bone in his body but… maybe the idea was just so stupid, so idiotic that he just wouldn’t be able to resist._

He heard the click of keys in the door, the slow and steady  _creak_ as it swung open. Dorian stepped through, his arms loaded with grocery bags, the cheeky grin that never failed to make Cullen giddy plastered across his face. 

“A little help, here?”

Cullen nods dumbly, nearly tripping over his own feet as he walked across the living room. He takes a few bags from Dorian and follows him into the kitchen. 

“Dorian?

“Hmmm?”

“I lo…” he flushes beet-red and nearly drops the bags in his hands, somehow mastering himself enough to lift them onto the counters. “I mean… Dorian…”

He sighs. Everything had gone wrong, of  _course_  it had.

Dorian’s staring at him, head cocked, a curious smile on his face. “What, Cullen?” 

He’s silent.  _No, he’d fucked it all up._   _He couldn’t, he’d ruined everything_. 

“Cullen. You wanted to say something. Just say it.”

He huffs, taking a shaky breath back in, fingers rubbing at the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up and onto his head. 

“Dorian… Will you…” Cullen closes his eyes, steadying himself for the imminent rejection. 

“Yes?”

“Be my boyfriend?”

There’s a soft touch against his cheek and when he opens his eyes Dorian kisses him, just a delicate brush of soft lips against his own. 

“You idiot. I thought you’d never ask,” Dorian whispers, his breath hot against Cullen's jaw. 

“So… yes?” He asks, hardly daring to hope even as he kisses Dorian back, hands trailing up his back and into his hair. It’s soft, fumbling, grasping, too chaste for the occasion but it’s everything and perfect and  _all_   _theirs_. 

Dorian noses his cheek before kissing him again, harder this time - deeper - a desperate tangling of lips and tongues and teeth before he pulls away breathless and flushed. 

“Yes. Always.”


	2. Cullrian - Hangovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: allmuckled up. _Dorian’s got a massive hangover and Cullen makes sure he’s comfortable with spiced coffee and sweets_

Dorian cracked an eye open as the mattress dipped beside him. He groaned as the late-morning sunlight made his head throb and buried his face back into the pillow. 

Cullen chuckled and ruffled his hair.  _Bastard._

“You know,” the man murmured. “I do seem to recall telling you that trying to outdrink the Chargers last night might not rank among your most brilliant ideas.” 

It was childish and he knew it even as he raised his hand but really, the man was infuriating enough when he was right, it was even worse when Dorian felt this dreadful even if it was of his own making. Dorian gestured rudely at him without opening his eyes. 

“Go away,” he whined. “Just let me die in peace.”

“Here, I brought you something,” Cullen said as he pressed a small vial into Dorian’s outstretched hand. 

Dorian rolled over, wincing at the sunlight streaming in through the roof. Clumsy fingers managed to uncork the little vial and he gave it a quick sniff, stomach turning at the smell. 

“Oh, Amatus. I don’t think I can drink this?”  _Maker_  it was brown? 

Cullen laughed again, rubbing a hand against his back. “I brought something you’ll like to get rid of the taste. Just drink it, my heart. I promise it will help. It’s an old Fereldan recipe.”

Dorian rolled his eyes but down it quickly, nearly gagging at the taste. True to his word, Cullen pressed a cup into his waiting hand and he took a quick sip. 

_Bitter. Dark. Laced with cinnamon and pepper and nutmeg and saffron and kaffas, but it tasted like home._ And as the hot liquid hit the back of his throat he thinks he could absolutely  _kiss_  the man. 

He could kiss him but he doesn’t have to. Cullen leans down and presses a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away and popping something between his still-opened lips. 

_Sweet. Like burnt caramel and cream and the cookies his nursemaid used to sneak him after he’d refused his dinner. But not soft like caramel, tougher, chewier._

“Mmmmm…” he sighed, the sugar going straight to his head, untangling the knots at the edges of his temples where the deep, throbbing ache had rested only a moment before. “ _Maker_ , Cullen but that’s good.”

“Toffee,” Cullen whispers against his skin, lips teasing at the slant of his jaw. “Now go back to sleep my heart, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”


	3. Cullrian - Cullen's magnificent hair and why he can't cut it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by unironicallypunny: I want Cullen with his hair growing out and starting to curl more and him not being able to cut it for some reason “no. NO this is RIDICULOUS”

Cullen frowned critically at his reflection in the glass.  _Maker_  but he needed a haircut. As if to punctuate that thought the pile of curls he’d precariously waxed and coaxed up and over his brow collapsed -  _again_  - obscuring his sight as tangled blonde strands fell limply in front of his eyes. 

He swore vigorously. This was all the mage’s fault. 

He’d gone a few weeks too long between trims and that had let Dorian discover that  _no_ , Varric’s nickname for him wasn’t just fanciful and  _yes_ , he did know how to tame it and had some grooming standards thank you very much. 

The altus had been  _enchanted_ , constantly leaning across Cullen’s desk to run his fingers through his hair. He took particular pleasure in plucking a single curl, pulling gently on it until it reached its full length, then letting it fall back into its usual shape. It struck Cullen as a childish habit, something his siblings had tormented him with when he was just a boy, but somehow when Dorian did it he couldn’t help but smile. And so he’d held off on his next cut, instead sneaking into Dorian’s supply of waxes and oils but now… they just weren’t working anymore. 

“Dorian!”

Said man swept behind him and into the mirror, impeccable as always, pausing only to press a soft kiss to his jaw before burying his face in the nape of Cullen’s neck. 

Dorian chuckled at the man’s deepening scowl as his fingers teased softly through the softly curling ends of the man’s hair. 

“Problem, Amatus?”

Cullen growled as his fingers combed through tangled strands, pushing them back up over his forehead. “It’s this… absolute mess. I can’t do anything with it. It  _needs_  to be cut.”

“But I like it this way,” Dorian pouted. “Please?”

“No. This is  _ridiculous_.” 

“It is  _not_  ridiculous.” Dorian walked around him and leaned back against the mirror, pulling Cullen gently by the hips against his chest. “It is the perfect mane for my Commander. My lionheart.” 

He kissed Cullen’s nose, ignoring his irritated grumble, hands fisting through the man’s hair. 

“And if you do cut it, Amatus, I shall be extremely cross. Besides, a bit longer and you could tie it back. I’ll get you a token to wear in it, the Pavus’ emerald silk gleaming against your hair? Magnificent.”

Cullen smiled softly and kissed him. “Well, I suppose I could live with it a little longer then, my heart.”


	4. Cullrian - Dorian's first "I love you"

Dorian shivered, pulling the stack of furs back up over his shoulder. Cullen  _still_  hadn’t had the hole in his roof fixed and the frigid winter air blew through the slats, teasing at every inch of bare skin. 

He curled up tighter against Cullen, pressing his back into the man’s chest, nearly whimpering as the man wraps his arms around him, pulling him even tighter into the warmth of his skin. 

Cullen combed a hand through his hair and they kissed, the man nosing at his cheek as they part. 

There’s something inarguable, something  _so very perfect_  about the feel of the blond’s arms around him. The feel of Cullen’s arms tightening around him, keeping him safe,  _loving him._

“ _Maker_ but I love you,” he breathed as he pressed tighter into the blond’s chest, his legs tangling against Cullen’s like a vine climbing a trellis. 

“You do?”

_Kaffas_  but he must have said that out loud. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, the flush coloring him dark red and  _Maker_  but he just can’t help himself. The way the man’s fingertips linger softly across his skin is just  _too perfect_ and he can’t pull away, can’t protect his heart. 

It’s too much, the words. Too much and not enough and everything that’s perfect and hurts  _so very much_  rolled up into one. 

_I love you._

_I love you._

**_I love you._   
**

And oh  _Maker_  but he does? He does love Cullen, loves the feel of the man’s arms around him, loves his tender, begrudging care. He loves the crookedness of his smile, the way his eyes light whenever Dorian sits across the chess table from him, the way his voice breaks when he greets him. 

_Cullen._

Yes, he loves Cullen. He loves him with every inch of his being and now he’s consumed by it, completely. He knows it now. Nothing will ever be the same again. 

“Yes. I love you,  _Amatus_.”


	5. Cullrian - Victory Kiss

The bird reached Skyhold weeks before the Inquisitor and her party.

They had been triumphant.

Corypheus was dead.

Haven and all of the deaths, the setbacks, the seemingly endless sleepless months of worry and planning. They had all been worth it.

Thedas was saved.

Thedas was saved, their future assured and yet the one person Cullen wanted to celebrate with, the one person he wanted to face the future with was gone.

It was only natural that Lavellan had taken Dorian to fight Corypheus. No other mage had her complete trust although Vivienne and Solas were both clearly skilled. Cullen understood but still, he resented Dorian’s absence especially now that they had everything to look forward to.

He buries himself in work over the long weeks it takes the party to return. Even though the war’s over he runs drills with his men, not wanting them to go soft. Corypheus might be dead but there’s still much to do to bring peace to Thedas. He burns through a three month supply of candles answering reports late into the night before Josephine storms into his office and demands he stop. With that source of distraction gone he paces the battlements, leaning up against the cold crenellations; he watches the courtyard for any sign of movement, praying they’re back early.

When Lavellan and her companions return the courtyard erupts with cheering and applause, the buildings empty as workers, servants and nobles alike come running to welcome the returning heroes.

As much as he’d rather wait at the front gates Cullen dutifully takes his place at the top of the stairs with Leliana and Josephine. When Lavellan passes he shakes her hand, nods to the rest of the companions.

When Dorian ascends the stairs the sight of the mage, resplendent in the sun, takes his breath away. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. He just knows that he desperately wants to kiss him, to take Dorian into his arms and never let him go.

He doesn’t have to. Dorian smiles and steps towards him, taking him into his arms. Dorian presses closer, leaning over him until he’s arched over, Dorian’s hand snug in the small of his back and the mage’s lips hot against his own.

The courtyard’s silent for a moment before it erupts in a fresh burst of applause.


	6. Cullrian - Comfort Food

Dorian shuddered as he stared at the glistening mass on his plate, gagging as it quivered under the press of his fork. 

He glared at Cullen who was just in the middle of another mouthful of the stuff. 

“What?” Cullen asked, swallowing hard as he smiled back at Dorian from across the table. 

“How can you eat this… whatever this monstrosity is?” Dorian hissed, shoving the plate across the table with a crash as it hit the edge of Sera’s. She grunted, frowning at him before she tipped his portion onto her own plate and dug in with a shrug. 

“What is it anyway?” He asked with a disdainful sniff. 

“Jellied pigs feet!” Bull crowed helpfully from the end of the table, brandishing a mug of beer like a weapon. “The only good reason to be in Ferelden, if you ask me! That and all the beer!”

“I  _didn’t_ ask, Bull,” Dorian replied primly as he folded his napkin and placed it on the table. 

Cullen watched him soft-eyed, concerned as Dorian stood and turned to leave. He frowned as he reached across the table to lightly touch Dorian’s wrist. “You don’t like it, my heart? It was my favorite meal when I was a boy… my mother would make it on a cold, snowy day when I’d come back freezing from hours out in the snow. I always thought it was the perfect comfort food.”

Sera sniggered as she took a bite, staring Dorian right in the eye as she chewed, mouth open, a grin flashing across her face as he gagged again. 

“Course he doesn’t, friggin’ poncey might-as-well-still-be noble he is. Too good for us little people, yeah? And all of our things. Right, Buckles?”

Tally smiled patiently at her from across the table, looking down at her untouched plate with a quick flash of a look akin to disgust. She winked at Dorian before taking a quick bite, somehow managing to keep her expression neutral. “Right you are, love. It’s… quite an experience.”

Sera beamed as Dorian rose to leave, pushing his chair back with a clatter. Cullen stood beside him, frowning as Dorian ducked under his waiting arm. 

“Don’t I get a kiss?” Cullen asked, pouting as he leaned in towards Dorian. 

“Maybe once you’ve brushed your teeth,” Dorian chuckled as he trailed his fingertips softly along Cullen’s jaw. 

“Five times.”


End file.
